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PORTUGUESE ORIGINAL:
Uma Escola Nordestina
Mandaram-me, para aprender as primeiras letras, para casa de um dr. Figueiredo, que viera da
capital passar um tempo na Vila do Pilar. Pela primeira vez eu ia ficar com gente estranha um dia
inteiro.
Fui ali recebido com os agrados e condescendência que reservava para o neto do prefeito da
terra. Tinha o meu mestre uma mulher morena e bonita, que me beijava todas as vezes que eu
chegava, que me fazia as vontades: chamava-se Judite. Gostava dela de forma diferente da que
sentia pela minha tia Maria. Ela sempre que me ensinava as letras debruçava-se por cima de mim. E
os seus abraços e os seus beijos eram os mais quentes que já tinha recebido.
E o dr. Figueiredo não parava no lugar. Só ficava quieto a ler os jornais e os livros, que tinha
muitos pela mesa. A mulher era quem me ensinava, quem tomava conta de mim. Uma vez vi-a a
chorar, com os olhos vermelhos, e o dr. Figueiredo sair de casa batendo com a porta. E de outra,
enquanto eu ficava sozinho na sala com o meu livro a apanhar. Compreendi então que a minha bela
Judite apanhava do marido. Tive mesmo o ímpeto de correr para a rua e chamar o povo para lhe
acudir. Mas fiquei quieto na cadeira, escutando-lhe os soluços abafados [...]
Mais tarde mandaram-me para a aula de outro professor, com outros meninos, todos de
gente pobre. Havia para mim um regime de excepção. Não ralhavam comigo. Existia um copo
separado para eu beber água, e um tamborete de palhinha para “o neto do coronel Zé Paulino“. Os
meninos sentavam-se em caixotes de gás. Lia-se a lição em voz alta. A tabuada era cantada em coro,
com os pés balançando, num ritmo que ainda hoje tenho nos ouvidos.
José Lins do Rego
Menino de Engenho
ENGLISH TRANSLATION:
A School in the North East
So that I could learn the letters of the alphabet, they sent me to the house of Doctor Figueiredo, who
had come from the capital to spend some time in the village of Pilar. For the first time, I was going to
stay with strangers for an entire day.
When I got there, I was received with the kind of politeness and deference reserved for the
grandson of the mayor. My teacher was a beautiful, dark-haired lady who kissed me every time I
arrived and who made me feel at home; she was called Judite. I liked her in a different way to my
auntie Maria. Whenever she taught me the letters of the alphabet, Judite would lean over me, and
her hugs and kisses were the warmest that I had ever received.
And Doctor Figueiredo never stood still. He only remained calm when reading the many
books and newspapers that he had on the table. It was his wife who taught me, and who looked
after me. One time, I saw her crying, with red eyes, as Doctor Figueiredo left the house with the door
slamming. And another time, when I was sitting quietly in the classroom with my book in my hand, I
heard the sound of beating coming from the inside of the house, and some cries from the person
who was inside. I had a strong desire to run into the street and to call the neighbours for assistance,
but instead I stayed silently in my chair, listening to the muffled sobs. […]
Later they sent me to classes with another teacher, with other children, all of whom came
from poor families. But they always dealt differently with me, and never got angry with me. There
was a different glass for me to drink water from, and a footstool for “the grandson of Coronel Zé
Paulino”. The children would sit on gas canisters and read the lessons aloud. We chanted the times
tables together, swaying our feet, in a rhythm that even today I can still hear in my ears.
José Lins do Rego
The Boy on the Plantation